On Yore Side

The Waves of War
by J. Lyon Layden and Kenny Savage

On the wind the song’s a wing, hear the rainbow fouls sing.

Hammer nails at morning light, breakfast bell, know I’m right I know the smell.

Wax the turnips, start the fire, hitch the mule, drive that plow.

In this toil there is no rest, like the beast, I labor for a meager feast.

Solo

Lay you weary down and rest, tomorrow’s chores will be no less.

Rooster crows I’m mending fence, least I know, I pay my taxes hence I owe.

For so long this land has slumbered, hear the quake of far off thunder.

A crawling darkness this way comes, like the snake, storm head strikes and eats the sun.

Solo
Chorus

When I heard the call I put my tools away, sharpened up my spear and
blade.

I saw them burn my fields in the waxing moon, they stole my sweat
and dreams that day.

Your blood has cursed this soil now it’s turned to clay, where once my
sons and daughter played.

I remember fields of green not so long ago, no treading boots let
nothing grow.

Hot fire swirls in bitter cold, straw roofs burn like shining gold.

On we march for his cold black heart, wave like flame, leaving only cinders for survivors to remember.

Against the tide vast armies stall, in waves their legions clash and fall.

A lone beam shines on bone chipped ground, a red rose grows and
our troops fight and scramble to smash it down!

Solo

Feel the steel, let red blood pour, your master’s leash will burn no more.

We’ll serve your heads at a full moon feast, eat our fill, toast to the banner that will never see surrender.

He bellows forth and mocks their pain, fierce defiance, all in vain.

Damned to hell but I must prove, I’m no fool and I’ll see you when the waves come crashing down!